Читать книгу Cherry Blossom Winter - Jennifer Maruno - Страница 10

THE MEETING

Everyone crowded into the long tarpaper building used as the meeting hall. Some people stood with their arms folded, spitting out Japanese fast and loud. Others talked in English about what had once been theirs, bristling with suspicion and anger.

Kiko and Michiko darted in and around them, listening to bits of conversation. The plank walkway was wide enough for two, but if you didn’t watch where you were going your foot could slip off into the mud.

Kaz Katsumoto was also big news.

“I was only nine when I lived near Athletic Park,” Kaz told the crowd of men that surrounded him. “I started off as a bat boy. I guess the rest is history.”

“You were the youngest to join the Asahi,” one of the men said. “I saw you play for the first time.” He turned to tell the rest of the crowd, “As soon as the baseball left the pitcher’s hand, Katsumoto was running from third to home plate.”

None of the kids in Michiko’s class planned to listen to what the visiting reverend had to say. They all wanted to investigate the fort one of the boys had built in an apple tree. Kiko couldn’t; she had to stay close by just in case her father needed something from the house. Michiko remained at her side. She hadn’t yet located her father or grandfather.

The security truck rumbled down the rutted road and stopped. Michiko recognized Sadie among the group of teachers that got out. She put her two beautiful manicured hands to her chest and breathed in deeply. “I miss the smell of all that grass,” she said to Michiko.

“I don’t miss the wolves,” Michiko said in response. She would never forget the night the hungry animals left the mountains and came right up to the farmhouse porch.

As Sadie and Michiko walked through the crowd they heard a long low whistle. “Looks like there still are a few wolves around,” Sadie whispered in her ear. Then she put her hand up to pat the twist of hair at the nape of her neck. She was dressed in a wide-banded pink-and-white-striped cotton skirt and a sleeveless white blouse. Her perfume filled Michiko’s nose, reminding her of the wild pink roses that grew along the roadside.